


Of angels and demons

by xenia_che



Category: Poldark - All Media Types, Return to Treasure Island (TV 1996)
Genre: Demons and Angels, Drabble, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 07:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18245105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenia_che/pseuds/xenia_che
Summary: For GatheringFiKi SpringFRE prompt 120: Demon/Angel AU





	Of angels and demons

                                                                            

 

He does look _angelic,_ with his raffled blond curls, pointy nose and rosy cheeks. The subtle is barely visible on his jaw, and it makes him look even younger. People trust him, it’s very hard not to. They adore him and look at him in awe, and they always, always listen to everything he is saying. And he tells them about good and evil, about morals, principles and choices. They swallow his every word the way they swallow down water on an arid day. That until his _innocent_ blue eyes bleed black, his grin turns feral and the Hellfire breaks from the tips of his fingers. They cry then, desperate and terrified. He never laughs at them out loud, but always thinks it’s funny, how fast they seem to forget their adoration.

They call him _Belial_ , he prefers _Jim_. The humans’ realm is his playground and he is happy to blend in.

 

He does look somewhat _demonic_ at times like this, his dark hair covered in blood and sweat. Not real blood, of course, his enemies never actually bleed. Still, it’s exhausting and nervewracking at the same time. It tiries him, the sound of battle, swords clanging and voices melting into one deafening cry of pain. They never even die, none of them. They just stop and leave and spend their days in Heaven’s gardens or Hell’s pits, so they can gather back their strength and dart into the battle with new determination. It never lasts. He didn’t chose it, none of it, really. But he is a soldier of Heaven’s army, he can’t exactly quit. Instead, he descends to the humans’ realm and drinks himself to slumber. Even his fellow soldiers can’t stand being around him when he gets like this, his eyes _dark_ and his wings covered in _sulfur_.

They call him _Uriel,_ he prefers _Ross_. The humans’ realm is his safe house and he really doesn’t want to stand out.

 

They meet once, twice, three times. _Jim_ smirks, _Ross_ salutes him with his whiskey glass.

“We should do a battle sometimes.” says _Ross_ nonchalantly, not being able to tear his greedy eyes away from _Jim_ ’s long fingers. 

“I’m a lover, not a fighter.” grins _Jim,_ and the earth shakes beneath their feet in silent mocking laugh.

 

Can demons love? Can angels, for that matter? 

 _Ross_ doesn’t know, _Jim_ doesn’t really care. But this burning, unrestrained desire is something they both understand. And succumb to it without any hesitation.

 

They tangle their limbs, they share kisses, steal each other’s moans. _Ross_ licks Hellfire off of _Jim_ ’s fingers. _Jim_ whispers God’s name, lost in his pleasure.

All Hell doesn’t break loose because one demon spreads his legs for an enemy general. And Heaven stays closed, for that matter.

“Same time tomorrow then?” asks _Jim_ , pulling on his t-shirt and being careful not to catch his horns in it.

“Go to Hell.” murmurs _Ross,_ still laying on the ragged bed and breathing out the cigarette smoke. It twirls in the moonlit air.

“Tomorrow it is.” chuckles _Jim_ and disappears, snatching one of _Ross_ ’ scorched feathers from his wings.

 

They do meet tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. And the day after the day after tomorrow.

 

After all, angels are no saints and demons are all sinners.


End file.
